The Borgias: What Happened After
by professor.rushy
Summary: This fanfiction tells the story of what happens after the series ends, focusing on the Borgia siblings. Cesare is at a loss as Lucrezia attempts to cleanse her soul and erase her Borgia blood. Disclaimer: The TV series and characters belong to Showtime.
1. Chapter 1: Blood and Water

**1**

"You will be naked, clean and bloodless again. And _mine_."

A silence hung in the air, like smoke in a blazing house. Cesare willed his sister to say something, anything, to kill this endless quiet.

"No," she eventually whispered. "Not yours. I can never be yours again."

Cesare dropped the wet cloth in shock. He thought this was what she wanted; the two of them, finally accepting their feelings for one another – even if he didn't know what exactly those feelings were.

"Cesare," Lucrezia sat up and ran her hand along the curves of his face, "If you loved me the way I once thought you did, my husband would not be lying dead next to me. You would have put my heart above the ambitions of our family."

She got up to leave, for the sight of lifeless Alfonso was too much to bear. Cesare called after her.

"Don't you dare will me to stay by your side," she cried. "I thought you were the good brother, the one who would never hurt me. In truth, you are no better than Juan."

The memory of their dead brother brought up in rage in Cesare's stomach – the same rage he felt when he'd forced the knife through his chest. He wanted to fight against his sister's accusation, but in his heart he knew it was true. Still, he couldn't let her leave like this.

"You must tell me where you are going," he called.

"Must I?" Lucrezia glared back at him.

"I need to know that you're safe."

Too weary to argue, Lucrezia conceded. "I will take my son to Squillace to find my one brother who seems to have escaped the curse of Borgia."

"Joffre?"

"I can only pray that he will find it in his heart to take us in. After, I will pray for the forgiveness of myself and everyone else in this wretched family. I will find a new husband, do my duty as a wife and neither you, nor Juan, nor our father, will be able to ruin this for me. You no longer own me, for I am no longer a Borgia."

Looking in his sister's eyes, Cesare could see that she was no longer the innocent child who has unquestioningly wed herself to a monster to please her father. She held herself tall, proud and refused to answer to any man – she reminded him of the tigress now sitting in the Castel Saint Angelo.

A week later, Cesare found himself in the one place he thought he could find solace. Lucrezia had left quietly in the dead of night, leaving no time for explanations or apologies. It killed him inside that he couldn't read her thoughts, to know if her hatred that night was real or just concocted out of grief for her husband. Not wanting to waste away in his Vatican apartments, he had set off on horseback without thinking and gone in search of the one man he knew could guarantee his sister's safety.

Forli was a scattered mess after Caterina Sforza's hasty removal; the paupers in the street feasted on stolen goods with abandon, while those meant to enforce the law simply drank away their wages with no lord, or lady, to tell them otherwise. Cesare spotted a young boy, no older than six, swipe a plum from one of the larger market stalls.

"Get back here!" he called, running after the boy. The thief took him down several winding alleys, until the came to a junction and Cesare could no longer see where he'd gone. He felt a hand gently touch his back and turned around.

"Micheletto!" he sighed.

"I had a feeling I would see you in Forli eventually," Micheletto's face remained straight as he spoke.

"How did I know I would be here?"

"It does not matter, Cesare Borgia. For now, let me take you to my mother's house and we can discuss this over some bean stew."


	2. Chapter 2: The Forgotten Borgia

Lucrezia bounced her infant son, Giovanni, on her knee in a vain attempt to calm him down. Since his birth he had hated travel, keeping his mother up with his constant wailing. Sometimes she wondered if he was more intuitive than she realised, and knew that not all was right with the family he was born into. After all, Lucrezia could not remember a time when she hadn't known.

Eventually her manservant opened the curtains to their litter, and Lucrezia was more than relieved to have finished her journey. Stepping out, she could see why she rarely heard from Joffre; Squillace was such a peaceful place, she could not imagine ever wanting to trade it for the toxic atmosphere of Rome.

Joffre waited for her in the moderately sized entrance to the palace. _He's grown_, she thought, examining his serene face which looked a copy of their mother's. As she ushered her inside she marvelled at the elegant simplicity of his home. An ancient fortress, the city echoed the lives of those who used to live there; from Roman generals to Norman kings.

Joffre was the first to break the silence. "So much has happened since we parted."

It was not just his appearance that had aged, it seemed, but his voice. It was deeper, and changed from the worries of ruling a city and, she imagined, news from home.

"Indeed. It seems we are now missing one brother, and I a husband," Lucrezia watched the floor as she spoke. "Tell me, Joffre, what do you make of all this? Our father almost loses his life, our brother sets about conquering Italy, I am held hostage in Naples and you are left here, forgotten."

"In truth, sister, I have a palace and a beautiful wife without need for intrigue or blood. I am blessed to be the forgotten Borgia."

The two siblings walked through the winding corridors of the palace, both deep in thought but neither of them saying a word. At last they came to a lavishly decorated chamber, fitted with a large bed and a crib covered on cloth of gold.

"You shall rest here," Joffre smiled, "And the crib is for your child. I have arranged for a wet-nurse to care for him while you are here."

"There is no need," Lucrezia decided. "I am resolved to live according to my own conscience rather than the ruling of our father and, as such, I should be raising my son as Isee fit. There will be no wet-nurse."

"You are really doing this?" Joffre raised an eyebrow. "You would erase the past and start again?"

"If you would help me, brother."

"You know that you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you wish. We are family – what is mine is yours."

"It is not just that, brother, although I receive it most gratefully," Lucrezia said. "I need you to help me become the forgotten Borgia."

It wasn't until Cesare took the bowl of hot stew from Signora Corelli's hands that he realised how famished he was. He had been riding for days without rest, as if he had no plans of stopping.

"Mother," Micheletto grumbled, "Would you be kind enough to give me and my _dittori _some privacy. We have matters to discuss."

"Of course, my bambino, but don't you let him take you back to Rome," she frowned. "I have my son back and I am never letting him go again."

They both listened to make sure she was out of earshot before they began speaking.

"You should not have come searching for me, Cesare Borgia. It is too dangerous."

"I fear my only alternative was more dangerous still," Cesare countered. "To be left alone, without my beloved sister or loyal henchman. I am a wreck, Micheletto, so I came to ask a favour."

"There is no way I can be of service to you, my lord," Micheletto shook his head. "My mother is becoming frail, and my place is here in Forli."

"Your place is with _me_, Micheletto. You swore loyalty to me."

That was when Micheletto saw it: the look he saw when Cesare talked about the many women he'd given his heart to – Ursula, his lover who had entered a convent to rid herself of the guilt of her husband's death; Caterina Sforza, who despite the apparent physicality of their relationship, Micheletto had seen a flicker of affection in Cesare; and –

"What do you need me for?" Micheletto found himself asking, somewhat against his will.

"I need you to go to Squillace and keep an eye on my sister. I fear for the damage she would do to this family … and to herself."

Lucrezia Borgia, the real light of Cesare Borgia's eye. Having served Cesare for years, Micheletto had long known that she was the motivation behind everything he did. His insatiable greed for her affections had a remarkable impact on his mind which impeded all logic. Micheletto knew this well, and yet he couldn't help but feel an unwavering love for the man he had served for so long. He hoped that one day Cesare would see all that he had done for him, and reward him with that look that had eluded him for so long.

"I cannot help you, my lord," Micheletto frowned. "You may lodge here for tonight, but then you must go."

Cesare could see that no words would persuade his former henchman to join him again, but failed to see why. His face looked like it was in some kind of pain, though Cesare could not see a cause. He wanted to ask him, perhaps to console him, but as ever, he drew himself away from the conversation and remained cold and aloof, as if their relationship was nothing more than business; it could never be anything else.


	3. Chapter 3: Confessions

Lucrezia woke up feeling nauseous, as she had done every morning that week.

"You are most likely grieving for your husband," Joffre had told her the day before, "If you are still ill tomorrow I will send for a physician."

The physicians were what Lucrezia feared most. For whatever reason, Joffre's wife was yet to give him a child so I was unaware of the symptoms of pregnancy. While it was not illogical for him to blame grief for his sister's illness, she was painfully aware that she had suffered these symptoms once before: just after she conceived Giovanni.

The thought of a child gave her mixed emotions: Giovanni brought her endless happiness, and she longed to give him a brother or sister for company. Despite this, the thought of carrying a dead man's child filled her with dread. It could only be Alfonso's, she thought, as she had not lain with another man since her wedding night. Alfonso had been drinking heavily before his death and while their relations had been scarce, it was possible she had conceived.

Someone knocked on the door. "You may come in," Lucrezia called after throwing up in a pot beside her bed.

"Lucrezia!" Joffre exclaimed, having walked in to see the ghostly figure of his sister lying in bed. "You look dreadful. Please let me find someone to help you. Sancia has a good physician who has never let her down –"

"Brother, there is no need. I know the cause," Lucrezia confessed. "I am with child."

"You are pregnant?"

"Yes, but you need not worry," Lucrezia began. "I shall seek sanctuary in a convent somewhere. I would not inconvenience you further."

"Nonsense," Joffre exclaimed, "You will stay and have the child here in Squillace; we have the finest midwives in Italy."

"Joffre, why are you being so kind?"

"Not all of your brothers are cold and ambitious," Joffre sat on the edge of the bed. "You are the only sibling to care for me and I would do anything to help you. And if you're worried about being a nuisance, I love having you here. My wife and I do not talk; you and Giovanni are the only company I have. Stay for a year, until you have given birth and your mourning period is over. Then you are free to leave."

"Very well," Lucrezia smiled. For the first time possibly since her marriage, she felt genuinely valued and it made her unspeakably happy. Here she was with a brother who asked nothing from her, only that she stay and be looked after. She managed to lift herself from the bed long enough to embrace Joffre. "One more thing – I need to see your priest as soon as possible."

Micheletto woke up before sunrise to a noise outside. He look out to see Cesare readying his horse for his journey.

"My lord," he said quietly as he met Cesare in the yard. "You do not have to leave this minute."

"Nonsense, Micheletto. You have made it clear that you cannot help you, so there is no need for me to stay. I have my father's business to conduct, and my own ambitions to realise."

"I will miss the business of your ambitions," Micheletto confessed, thinking back to the many times he'd been called in to take care of someone who stood in Cesare's way.

"Then come back to Rome with me," Cesare begged.

"There is only one way in which I can."

"Name it."

"You tell me why you cannot simply hire a new henchman."

Cesare pondered it. The answer was simple: they had formed a friendship which could not be replicated with another man. When he thought Micheletto had died, he had felt a pain in his heart. That pain had not left and would not leave until he had Micheletto for his own. But he could not tell him that.

"No one else is as skilled as you," he said diplomatically.

Micheletto took his chance. "You mean, you like no one else as much as me. It is time we stopped denying it – I watched you when you thought you had found me dead, and I saw that face."

"What face?"

"The face you make when your heart is broken," Micheletto explained. "I saw that look when Ursula left you to join the convent, and again when she was murdered. You looked like that for a whole day when you had to flee the castle of Forli from Caterina Sforza. That look … was the look you made every time you realised your sister loved someone else."

Cesare looked defensive. "You insult me twice."

"Twice, my lord?"

"First, you suggest that my sister and I have had … improper relations," Cesare fumed, "Then, you have the presumption to accuse me of being a sodomite too."

"My lord, I did not suggest any relations between your sister, only feelings. I can only take your denial as a confession."

"My feelings for my sister are between me and her only!"

"What about God, my lord?"

"You speak to me of God? You know I have no faith in Him," Cesare growled. "But as a former servant of the Church, I will not be accused of any form of improper feelings."

"Very well," Micheletto sighed, "You carry on hiding all feelings. I cannot. That is why I cannot serve you from now on."

Cesare's resolve crumbled. Before he knew it, his lips were locked with Micheletto's in the same way they had locked with Ursula, Caterina and Lucrezia.

Lucrezia stepped into the confessional. She had always hated the way they were small and confining, and had therefore avoided it whenever she could. However, the last few days had felt like waking up from a dream, and it occurred to her that making peace with her creator was a high priority.

"My brother tells me that he trusts you above all, Father," Lucrezia said. "Tell me, do you swear upon your own soul that he is right to do so?"

"Of course, my child."

"And you believe that God forgives all sins?" she asked.

"If the sinner pays penance for their actions, yes."

"Then tell me," Lucrezia started, "what penance is appropriate for the sin of disobedience?"

"It is hardly a grave sin," the priest explained, "worthy of little more than ten _Ave Maria_'s."

"And what about the sins of murder, fornication and … incest?"


	4. Chapter 4: Love and Power

_**A/N: Sorry it's taken me a while to write this - I've started my second year at uni and all the work I'm doing seems to be getting in the way of my writing (in a great way - studying History is amazing!). Thank you to everyone that's following or has favourited this. It's my first ever fan fiction and I'm glad so many people are enjoying this and sharing my appreciation for such a great show. **_

**Chapter 4**

"You'll just love the market here in Squillace," Joffre promised as he led his sister to the bustling centre of town. "They have everything you could possibly need."

"I hope so," Lucrezia replied, "Giovanni is growing fast and nothing seems to fit him at the moment."

The market had been erected in front of a magnificent basilica. It was not Sunday but a vast crowd of people were gathered, listening to the priest. Her mind focused on browsing, Lucrezia filed through the people in a bid to get to a fabric stand. Joffre grabbed her arm.

"Lucrezia, they're talking about our father."

Lucrezia turned around to listen to the priest.

"Our Holy Mother Church is on the brink of ruin," he said animatedly. "Our pope lives in splendour on our donations. He eats the finest delicacies while our poor starve. He fornicates without scruple, and his bastard offspring are no better."

The priest located the horrified Borgia siblings, pointing them out for the whole crowd to see.

"Only yesterday, the daughter, Lucrezia, came to me for confession. She told me herself that she had committed the sin of incest!"

There was an outcry. The crowd turned on Lucrezia, who had turned white with fear. The look on their faces was murderous. She shook her head, but she knew she could not deny her actions.

"She told me, in the sight of God himself, that on her wedding night she took herself to the chamber of her older brother. There, she lay with him."

Cesare and Micheletto lay naked under the sheets.

"What shall we do now?" Cesare asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"That depends, my lord."

"On what?"

Micheletto turned on his side.

"What's more important to you? Power or love?"

"Excuse me?" Cesare looked bewildered.

"You must make a decision. You can go back to Rome, work with your father and conquer Italy, just as you've always dreamed. Or you can stay here in Forli, and we will find a way to be together without anyone knowing."

"Can I not have power and love?" Cesare asked.

"It is not possible. Power and love do not belong together. Many men have possessed great power, and many men have succeeded in great love, but no man has done both."

"Not many men have been the acknowledged son of the Pope of Rome," Cesare countered.

"Even the Pope of Rome cannot give unlimited power to someone like us," Micheletto said. "He can accept fornicators, murderers and even Jews, but I am afraid the one person he cannot accept is a sodomite."

"So I would have to leave him forever?"

"It would seem so, my lord."

"And Lucrezia?"

Micheletto swallowed. "Yes."

Cesare didn't know what to say. There was a great force pulling him towards Rome: it was family, it was loyalty and it was destiny. He felt in the depths of his soul that there was a place for him in history, if only he could wield the power to take it. However, there was something that made him want to stay too. He was in love with Micheletto. It wasn't the complicated type of love he shared with his sister, which was mingled with jealousy and rage. It was a pure love for someone who had been to hell and back with him and had sacrificed everything to protect him. To choose between such strong feelings and destiny was an impossible decision.

He knew that there was one person who could make the decision for him, if only she would forgive him.

"It's not true," Joffre was pacing up and down the dining room intensely. "Please, Lucrezia, tell me it isn't true."

Lucrezia starred at the floor, unable to speak as the cleric's betrayal left a bitter lump in her throat.

"Lucrezia, I'm begging you."

Lucrezia finally spoke. "Have you ever felt a darkness descend on your heart? Something so intense you felt you'd never escape from it?"

"Yes," Joffre said.

"When?" Lucrezia looked up.

"That's what it is to be part of the most hated family in Christendom," Joffre muttered, "To be seen as the same debauch scum as your father even though he's forgotten you. I thought you understood that."

"I do, Joffre!"

"Don't lie to me!" Joffre cried. "You've committed a crime worse than even our father can be accused of. Committing adultery … with your own brother!"

"Please brother, hear me," Lucrezia begged, "I was in the darkest place imaginable."

"I've been in the darkest place imaginable. I turned to God. You turned to the Devil." Joffre paused for a while. "Who's is it?"

The focus of his glare indicated that he was referring to the child that was beginning to show in Lucrezia's silhouette.

"Alfonso's," she answered firmly.

Joffre's eyes told Lucrezia that he didn't believe her.


End file.
